


The Tourney of Winterfell

by Jt4k9



Series: The Children of Winterfell [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt!Jon, M/M, Mpreg, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 10:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jt4k9/pseuds/Jt4k9
Summary: Jon falls victim to the violence of two knights and it has lasting affects for the Years to follow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Carefull once more..... i am not leaving much to the imagination and mean the warnings.....this is mean... just saying...but pretty much only the first chapter... the rest is just the usual psychological torture that is game of thrones....If you want to skip the rape part-down the chapter starts a more innocent story telling of the days before..

"Please stop!" The desperate attempt to loosen the hold that the foul smelling Knight had on him failed, as had those before this one. Instead the arms held tighter while wandering hands gripped his private parts.

"Now now child there is no reason for such shyness. If you calm yourself, this will be over very quickly and quiet pleasurable for you as well."

  
The hands now forced themself beneath closing, fondeling the boy they held roughly and leading the recipient of the cruel touch to cry out.

  
"Make him shut up Rendyll, or the little bitch will wake the entire fuckin castle." The second man present, who had been watching out the window of the stable hissed over his shoulder at his companion.

"And hurry up at that, I still want a fuckin piece of him as well."  
"Yeah,yeah, if you bloody idiot would leave me to it, your ugly as shit face aint helping here."

  
The man pulled his fingers from the boys trousers only to hold them infront of his face, pressing tightly against the boys mouth to quiet him. With the other hand he opened and pulled down, the youths pants and smallcloath. The man that had been watching, grinning like a madman, his yellow and crooked teeth showing, now walked up to join the spectacle as well.

Pulling the boys pants down the rest of the way, he kneeled down in the hay only to grip the boys chin and pull it towards him. Randyll grinned malicously at his companion as he watched him, slowly whispering to the boy.

  
"If you bite me, we will fuck you dead boy, do you hear?"  
Not being given the chance to answer the boys face which was covered in salty tears was pulled down to the mans uncovered crock. Looking one last time at his partner in crime, the man grabbed a stronger hold of the sobbing face and shoved his meaty dick into the youths throat, immedietly choking him and stiffeling his cries of fear.

  
Watching what transpired infront of him the other also pulled out his member, not as thick as the first ones but longer and guided it to the small puckered hole.  
"By the gods, I've never fucked a pretty little bitch like that" were the last words the man uttered before stopped talking alltogether and only gave grunts as he pushed into the unbelievable tight and dry channel of their victim.

  
Crying more desperatly in pain now, the boy could do nothing, but grip the hay beneath him in agony, as both men pushed into him in a steady rhythm. Tearing his hole on one side and depriving him of the much needed oxygen on the other.

  
The thick man that had shoved his dick down the boys throat was grunting his pleasure as well, slapping the boy from time to time and ordering him to "suck", which the boy did after a particular cruel thrust from behind.

The more fit man behind the black haired boy was grabbing his hips, using them as leverage to push and pull into and away from the small body, enjoying the tightness around his crock as much as the heat and wetness, stemming from his cum as much as the boys blood.

  
Pulling out allmost entirly the man pushed one last time with all ferocity into the young boy beneath him and cumming in loads deep inside the small body.

  
It seemed the desperate sounds emerging from the raping man, now led the other to climax down the boys throat.

  
And so it continued for the rest of the night, the men switching positions or just cutting away at him in amusement while recuperating. Leading to the boy they had chosen as their toy to loose consciousness at one point.

 

 

**One week before**

"Why not?!" The pleading and at the same time insubordinate and stubborn tone of Robb Stark only served to annoy his father.  
"Robb,barely two and ten namesdays old is not enough to join a tourney!"

Looking down at his son with a stern expression, Ned Stark hoped to cower the boy into submission, but it barely seemed to work and it served to only agitate his first born further.

Looking around the room, Robbs eyes caught his one and ten year old brother attempting to melt into the wall. Allready knowing that Jon was seen as a more reasonable and calm person as he himself was and smelling an opportunity the wolf pup turned once more  
"Jon thinks I could have a chance at winning."

Looking at his other son the Lord of Winterfell barely held back a snort at the panickstricken expression on Jons face. The boy apparently having been clueless of his supportive stance of his little brothers endeavors. Out of pure loyalty it seemed, the bastard turned to his father as well, nodding his agreement. Scrowling, Lord Stark said nothing, but a firm command; "Jon do not lie on behalf of your brother to me and Robb do not question my desicions again. You can leave now." With this clear dismissal Lord Stark let the boys run of, only to hear the calm voice of his second son scolding his eldest.


	2. A son found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smalljon is still young, which is why he`s not the bear of a man yet we so dearly love......Robb just wants attention.....Lord Stark doesn`t understand jokes where his children are concerned

**Jon Umber**

Jon “the Smalljon” Umber was only a few years older than the Stark heir, which was exactly why his father had burdened him with the task of following the boys every whims and answering his every question. And the boy sure as hell had many, especially regarding the tourney. His father had commented that it would be better to get along with the boy now, since building up a certain familiarity with one`s future liege lord could only lead to positive relations and therefor advantages for his house, but by the Gods the price was a heavy one to pay.

Regardless of any diplomacy his unusually ambitious father wished for, Jon was annoyed, more than that, since after about three hours of being continuously questioned he had pretty much gasped at straws to be rid of the little brat. In the end it had been easier than expected, as a joke he had thrown the boy a stick, asking him to catch, he truly hadn`t expected the boy to do it, house sigil be damned, but to his surprise the boy had run after it.

Smelling a chance, Jon ran for his dear life, seeing the old Lord Karstark, that bastard, smirk at his desperation as he walked by him, but not caring since he was free at last.

Finding a hiding spot was even more difficult, the stables which currently hosted the horses of the visiting lords would be frequently visited, especially those southron knights seemed to believe that by braiding their horses hair and pampering them, the animals would carry them better in the tourney. Snorting Jon moved over to the Starks` stables instead, with no one of that house riding in the tourney, they would be empty today, the stable boys having been ordered to attend the horses of the other houses first and tending to the Starks mares later during the tourney. He opened the door at the front, pushing his tall frame through and closing it again immediately.

The stench that assaulted him instantaneously was one of blood and the lingering smell of sex. On alert, he took a knife from his right boot, clutching the hilt in his hand as he walked further into the stables. Looking around he saw nothing of note at first, the horses stood undisturbed, as he walked by the stalls.

That changed when he reached the last stall, staring stupidly, not really knowing what to do really he entered slowly. Looking on in horror, he took in a shake breath, letting out a deep growl, as more became visible of what he had only caught a glimpse of as he walked by.

The naked and bloody form of the young boy beneath him told him all he needed to know. The face, covered in blood and by the boys unruly black curls, lay facing him. Carefully he nudged the unmoving body with a boot only to receive a grimace and a whimper of pain. Surprised at the very alive being beneath him, the he was quick to carefully pull up the small child. He looked around as if the assailant would come out any second, even though he logically knew the men that had done this to be long gone and unlikely to return. Disturbed he was careful not to jostle the unconscious child around, instead he walked out of the stall and grabbed a nearby blanket he could cover the boy with.

Seemingly coming out of his shocked stupor, he made his way back to the Great keep with all haste, bypassing all those around without uttering a single word and now almost running to the Maesters tower. Sprinting up the stairs he burst into the room, only to stop in his tracks, panting like a bull.

The small room seemingly filled with every Lord that had deemed to visit, erupted into shouted questions in a second, Maester Luwin the only one reacting to the child in his arms, directed him to a small bed in one corner. Brushing the curls out of the boys face at the same time feeling for a fever, the maester froze. Hastily turning and staring straight at Lord Stark the maester only uttered with a shaky voice:

" My Lord I think it would be best if you were to leave the room."

Lord Stark who had been trying to return order to the room so he could find out what was happening froze at those words. Looking at the boy for the first time the usually quiet wolf let out a strangled cry and was about to push the maester to the side in his haste to get to the child, when his father and Lord Rickard Karstark grabbed a hold of him. It was Ser Brynden Tully who seized him and dragged him into the library next to the maesters solar, the Lords filling out, but for Lady Mormont who remained to help the maester. Still struggling to get back into the room, Lord Stark seemed almost in a haze, until his cold eyes, now ablaze with fire snapped to him. Not even his father could stop Lord Eddard Stark then from charging at him and pushing him straight into the book shelf behind him, growling words at him and snapping as if he were actually a wolf.

" What happened? What did you do to my son?!"

And even though he was already taller at four and ten than Lord Stark, he could not help himself, but tremble under the weight of his words and cower when faced with those eyes. He must have looked like a boy of six then instead of the burly young man he actually was.

" Noth....nothing my Lord Stark, I....I found him in your stables and brought him here....he...I had nothing to do with raping him.." And these words more than anything seemed to snap Lord Stark out of whatever bloodlust that had filled him. The rest of the Lords seemed to hold their breaths as Lord Starks demeanor changed in an instant.

Taking breaths to calm himself he turned to Lord Karstark, this time uttering words with a voice so cold it could have brought winter upon the North this instant, he was sure of it: " My Lord Karstark, alert the guards of what has happened, take Jon here with you, to show them how and what he found, tell them to question the people around Winterfell of what they saw and then report to me on your findings, take Ser Brynden with you as well, the Riverlanders might answer more questions if he is present. The rest of you, ask every man you brought with you of the last night. And make no mistake My Lords, I will turn this castle upside down if I have to and search the entire North to find who did this.” Lord Stark had never given many orders to the Lords of the main Houses in the North, most disputing this to his calm and just demeanor, which usually led the men to do right by their leige without having been prompted to do so. This time everyone seemed to know that there would be harsh consequences if they did not act accordingly to the situation.

There was no question of the origin of the rapists in the Lords eyes, it could not have been a man of Winterfell, it had to be a person visiting.

As the Lord looked at him once more he saw the lust for blood in his eyes as he turned towards the closed door, behind which his bastard lay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ned** **Stark**

 

He shouldn’t have agreed to this spectacle. The only thing this tourney seemed to be good for is emptying Winterfells coffers and causing rifts rather than friendships. Only yesterday Umber and Manderly men had tried to apparently carve each others heads in. Why? Ned had no idea, and he questioned whether the soldiers themselves knew why a simple disagreement had escalated like that.

  
The tourney had been, like most expensive things in his life, his wife’s idea, and he had played along with it for entirely different reasons.

  
Disturbing news about the Dreadfort, the Bolton lands and the lands surrounding them had reached his ears. Tensions had risen and the Houses being closest to the Boltons had men patrolling their borders on a regular basis. The Lords that had written letters, had spoken of soldiers wearing the flayed man appearing on their land, strange deaths and disappearances from the surrounding villages. Some even claimed the victims found had been flayed. All the while ravens from the watch came more frequently, either begging for help or telling of strange sightings and odd wildling behavior. All in all there had been enough reasons to invite his bannermen to Winterfell.

  
And even if it were not for the topics that needed to be addressed it was the height of summer and the smallfolk would surely enjoy making some fond summer memories before the next winter. Reminiscences of better times could give hope for the future after all, and if the maesters were right this summer would last for several years yet and the winter would only be harsher for it.

  
But it would seem that despite his biggest hopes, the tourney, which had yet to start, was only causing trouble. He had thought that if he only invited the knights of the biggest Houses of the Riverlands and the North, it would keep things simple; he was wrong. Lord Bolton had refused the invitation claiming sickness, the rest of the Lords spent more time boasting over victories that yet needed to be won, rather than addressing serious matters and the smallfolk was complaining over disrespectful, handsy southerners. Why or even how the Tyrells could stand hosting so many festivities all summer he would never understand.

  
Even now, having moved up to the Maesters tower to escape the buzzing activities surrounding the castle and by default his solar the Lords seemed to have lost all ability to focus.

  
“ If your pathetic excuse of a Northern son manages to outlast my Jon in the melee I will personally swallow a sword”  
“Which kind?” Lord Karstark laughed back into the faceof Lord Umber as the Greatjon claimed his eldest sons superiority.  
“My Lords, I know that we are all excited about the melee at midday, but do me a favor and focus on the matters concerning the Nights Watch a little whil…..”

At that moment the door was thrown open with such force that every Lord jumped up, hands moving to the sides where their swords could be found on any other day. The disheveled Smalljon Umber that came barging in was greeted with the angry cries of every northman in the room, his frantic eyes were searching, until they found Maester Luwin who was crossing the room already. As the boy laid down a prone figure onto the bed, the room quieted somewhat, until Maester Luwin spoke up.

  
.  
.  
.

  
He had promised her, he promised her to take care of her son and now….nothing now, he had failed, and not only that, he had failed in one of the most disgusting, terrible ways one could fail any child. He had been sitting in front of the master`s solar, the same way he was now, when Jory had come to report his findings. Not that it had been much. The attack probably happened last night, since Jon was found in the morning. No one had seen anything or heard something out of the ordinary. So many people and all to drunk or to self-absorbed to have noticed his sons screams.. He imagined he must have screamed, and he didn`t notice, because he had been at the feast, drinking, eating and enjoying himself instead of fulfilling his fatherly duties, for Jon was a son to him just like Robb and Bran were. He remembered someone asking where his bastard was, Lord Manderly maybe, but didn`t remember what he had answered.

  
The maester had banned him from the room he was treating Jon in and maybe that was a good thing, because as selfish as it was he did not want to see what damage had been caused. At some point Lady Mormont had gone in search for clean water and the blood on her hands had him wanting to throw up. Sitting here now, on the ground of the library by himself, left him feeling utterly incapable. He could not rouse himself to help in the search for the perpetrator, instead he simply wanted his son back, in the same condition he had been in yesterday.

  
“ Lord Stark.” As he looked up he saw Maege Mormont standing in the doorway. Getting up to walk into the room, she squeezed his arm once in a show of support.  
“ Thank you for your help Maege.” Nodding she let him walk into the room and closed the door behind him.

Maester Luwin was rummaging around his cabinet as he walked up to his son.  
“How is he Maerster?” He asked as soon as he laid eyes upon his son.  
“Most of the injuries were to be expected, painful, but they will heal with time. There are some shallow cuts covering his body that will have to be cleaned regularly, if they are not, they could become infected, that more than anything worries me.”

  
“What of….” Sighing heavily he ran a hand through his hair.  
“My Lord, he is not the first boy to have been violated in such a fashion, as I said, it will hurt for a while, but will heal. It will be more important that you and his siblings will be here to care for him, such things often hurt the mind more than they hurt the body.”

  
Nodding to himself he regarded his son, looking for injuries. Jon looked as if he were merely sleeping, if one ignored the dark bruises on his chin and on the side of his head, his lip was split as well it would seem. Sitting down heavily in the chair that had been pulled up to the side of the bed he stroked his sons black curls.

Turning to Maester Luwin he saw the man watching him with an expression that he recognized to be pity.

  
“What is in that maester?” He gestured to the herbs the master was cautiously holding, seemingly unsure of himself.  
“ Only a few herbs; tansy, mint, wormwood…”  
“What are they good for, will they help Jon?”  
“In a way it will help him yes, one makes moon tea out of them.”

  
Looking him in the eyes the maester willed him to understand. Not daring to speak what he was thinking he waited for the maester to continue, even though he already knew what would be said next.  
“It would seem Jon is a carrier.” The unspoken words weighed much heavier than what had been said. Jon could very well be pregnant or become pregnant if he did not drink the tea.

  
“Why didn`t we know of that?” He spoke harshly.  
“ Ahh, the boy is lucky that we found out at all, most times carriers are only identified when they become pregnant. You see Lord Stark, the birthing channel only becomes visible after they grow mature enough to carry a child, and by that point the only way one is identified by a maester is when an unfortunate accident occurs that requires the healing of one. Again having said this, the boy is lucky.”  
“Lucky?” He asked disbelievingly.  
“In a sense. You as well as I know how valuable carriers are considered to be, if he had not been a carrier I imagine his life would only grow more difficult after this incident, but with this, he will almost considered to be holy, a gift of the gods. People will be a lot more considerate, they will not joke or be cruel.” Logically he knew that Maester Luwin was right. A bastard boy that had been raped; what happened to Jon would have been a joke to others, a weakness as he grew older, but now it would only cause offense that someone had dared to touch a child that was considered to have been blessed by the gods. And still, after the events of last night the last thing Jon would need now was the knowledge that at some point he would be married of to a Lord to bear his children, among other things. Sighing he could only feel pity for his son as his entire life was altered forever in only one night.

  
“Maester, give him the tea when he wakes up and tell the Lords of your findings.”  
“ I will also have to inform the citadel as well as Kingslanding.”  
“ Aye, do as you have to, but make sure to explain the circumstances and my son`s young age and make it clear that we do not wish to be approached with betrothal propositions as of yet.”  
“ Despite your wishes my Lord, there will surely soon be many boys Jon`s age being fostered here.”  
Smiling slightly, he only nodded, still weaving his hands through his sons hair. “ If it is only that, I can live with it. It might even help him to get better.”  



End file.
